Remus J. Lupin (maraudermoony) wrote in uprisingrpg, @ 2011-05-07 23:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | nymphadora tonks, remus lupin |
Who: Remus and Tonks
What: Hours before the full moon are generally the worst for Remus.
When: Saturday
Where: One of the Order safe houses
Warnings: Full Moon Rising Smut.
Status: Incomplete
It was hot. It was always hot. The moon made him miserable, even in the dead of winter, where he was shifting about in his home, unable to sit still and unwilling to stop pacing. Back and forth, constantly moving, sweat rolling down his back, circles around his eyes, and practically begging for sleep. He didn't sleep often the nights that preceded his transformation. The potions made it easier, as he remembered the days where he was constantly sick from the anxiety and worry, fretting over how badly he was going to tear himself up in the upcoming night. It didn't matter back in those days, not too much at least, so long as he was tearing himself up and not James or Sirius. Even Peter, as foolish as he was to trust him in that time. As long as they weren't hurt, it was fine.
Fuckin' hell, it was hot.
He was pacing, always pacing, back and forth in the bedroom, wearing nothing back slacks. His hair was drenched and the moon was still several hours away. It was a damn waiting game. He couldn't get anything done, he couldn't focus on anything, even if he wanted to. His human mind remained, which prevented him from hurting those he cared about (namely Dora as she was always around), but that meant he felt dread for longer periods of time. He growled partially to himself, his hands slamming down on the window sill of their bedroom, placing his body directly in front of the air conditioner in an effort to cool down. He wanted to cool down. It was so bloody hot.
He bowed his head. This was frustrating. So damn frustrating. He was rendered useless for a stretch of time every month, a stretch of time he could use more wisely, if it wasn't for Fenrir. His teeth ground together as his eyes closed, trying to take calming breaths. Snape's words had really settled in with him, making him feel practically useless these days, though he was keeping this primarily to himself. Finally, with a frustrated sound, he pushed himself from the window sill, stomping out of the bedroom, looking for Dora.
When he found her, he looked directly into her eyes, his large and frantic. Normal, really, for this time of the month. "I need to run. Now," he told her. He didn't often leave the house before his shift, but he needed to find a way to beat the heat. And he imagined at least running would push the wind against him and cool him down, even though he was burning from the inside. Maybe, if nothing else, he could just go dive into the lake that was close by the house. He was pretty sure she could extend the wards that far. Or did they cover it already?
Hell, he couldn't remember. It didn't matter. She'd take care of it. She always did. He loved her for that.
Run. Right. Run. He needed to run. He waited for an answer.